Redbirds-backed RBI youth baseball program still a hit

Robert Manus, a coach in Memphis’ Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities program, leads kids in a cheer before playing a game at UT’s Doctor Field recently. Manus participated in the first RBI program more than 20 years ago and now volunteers as a coach to give back to the program and the children it serves.

The RBI program, which has been funded by the Redbirds for years, also gets support from local church charities to help provide equipment and food for participants.

Ronald Bradford, 14, tries to tag out Anthony Alexander, 13, on a steal at second during a recent RBI game at UT's Doctor Field. About 1,000 local youths are participating in the RBI program this summer.

Late on a steamy morning, the sound of baseballs colliding with leather and aluminum fills the air.

In between the alternating thwacks and pings, kids laugh and coaches encourage.

"Hustle, hustle, hustle!"

"Eyes to the barrel, eyes to the barrel!"

The field is an open, grassy lot with temporary bases that skip away with a hard slide.

There's no outfield fence. There's no infield dirt. The pitching rubber is a line drawn in the grass.

The gloves and bats aren't theirs, but the kids don't seem to care. They spend three hours a day, four days a week on the makeshift baseball field, learning the fundamentals of the game through the Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities summer program, funded by the non-profit Memphis Redbirds Foundation and administered by Global Spectrum, the firm that manages the Redbirds.

"When they show up and they see that there's actually people that care about them, it makes them want to come back," said Anthony Albonetti, assistant director of recreation at Idlewild Presbyterian, one of 11 RBI sites. "They don't really care what you know until they know how much you care."

The RBI program, with its mission to increase participation and interest in baseball and softball among underserved youth, has about 1,000 participants this year. The Redbirds Foundation's annual funding — which in recent years has ranged from about $78,000 to a little more than $100,000, according to tax returns — pays for uniforms, transportation, coaches and umpires.

The foundation has continued to fund the program despite struggling financially in recent years because of the strain of making bond payments on $80 million AutoZone Park, which opened in 2000.

"We still exist as a nonprofit because of the RBI program itself, and we're always going to make sure that the RBI program is up and running to its highest level," said Adam Goldberg, Redbirds director of marketing. "Regardless of the financial stress, we want to make sure people understood that the RBI program would go unchanged moving forward."

The local RBI program affiliated two years ago with the national program sponsored by Major League Baseball. That hasn't resulted in funding from MLB, but Redbirds general manager Ben Weiss said it has indirect benefits.

"We hope that relationship with Major League Baseball improves the exposure of the program, and we think it does," he said. "It opens up doors, too. Last year it opened up an opportunity to get a (small) monetary donation."

Sometimes, a simple call for help is answered. Several weeks ago, with some of the kids' gloves wearing out, Idlewild director of recreation Ashley LaRue sent out a notice to the congregation that the program could use some new leather.

"Within 48 hours we had $300 of monetary donations so we could go out and buy gloves," LaRue said. "And we had another 15 or 20 dropped off."

The gloves were weathered and broken in. Some had previously scrawled names scratched off. But they were functional.

"Most of these kids don't have equipment, they've never had equipment, so they don't know what a real good glove is," Albonetti said. "They see a piece of leather on their hand that's not busted apart and they've got the biggest smile on their face. That's all they care about. They just want something that's not broken."

It goes beyond providing kids the tools to play the game. As they wait in line to grab a glove before the day's work starts, they're given a snack. As they drop the gloves off afterward, they're given another.

Volunteers who may never see the kids swing a bat spend hours making peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, or donate food for the kids — some of whom show up without eating breakfast.

"People don't mind helping for a cause like this," Albonetti said.

The "cause" isn't about producing future major leaguers — although, nationally, there are such success stories as current major leaguers Jimmy Rollins, Carl Crawford and Justin Upton. The cause has more to do with improving lives, say Robert McGowan and Robert Manus, who should know. They've returned to the fields where they once played to coach in the program.

"Some people can't take the heat, some people just don't like it," McGowan said. "But when we go out there and we ask who enjoys coming out here every day, I can guarantee you all our kids raise their hand."

Manus, who played in the inaugural Memphis RBI program, said, "I use baseball as a tool. It can really take you places if you are serious about it. You have to be disciplined, in the classroom, on the field, off the field.

"You can't be a quitter. If you're going to quit on the field, you're going to quit off the field. Simple, point blank, period. You start to become a quitter, you set that trend."